


You're Not That Good at Hiding it

by Gfics



Series: Gallavich Drabbles/One Shots [6]
Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 11:45:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8978359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gfics/pseuds/Gfics
Summary: Gallavich through the eyes of the other Gallaghers (and co)Set sometime around 4x08-pre4x10Basically just loads of fluff because we all need that right now.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! I always love fics that look at Ian and Mickey's relationship though other people's eyes so I thought I'd take a stab at it. So here's that. Hope you like it!

It was late at night and yet Carl’s mind wouldn’t allow him any sleep. It wasn’t a rare occurrence as of lately, with all of the shit going on in the family; Frank dying, the Liam _almost_ dying thing, amongst other stuff. What _was_ different about this particular night, however, was that Mickey Milkovich of all people was lying a few feet away, southwest of his bunk bed perch.  
Carl hadn’t even known his brother and the thug were friends. Sure they knew each other well enough, with his sister being Ian’s best friend and all, but close enough to invite him to sleep over? Carl hadn’t thought it likely.  
“You look like death,” Carl heard his brother whisper all of a sudden. He hadn’t realized anyone else was awake, but he was assuming that Ian was thinking the same thing.  
“Whatcha you lookin’ at me for anyways?” Mickey whisper-yelled back, but something about the way he said it didn’t have the usual Milkovich anger tied in. Mickey sounded different in a way Carl couldn’t quite put his finger on. Amused? Or… softer maybe.  
“Couldn’t sleep,” he heard his brother respond after an odd moment of silence. The younger Gallagher quietly turned his body towards the bed across the room to better observe the situation. Ian’s face was at the side of his bed, left arm slung over the edge so his fingertips were just barely touching the floor next to Mickey’s head.  
“And?” Mickey asked, reminding Carl of what the oddly intimate seeming conversation had been about in the first place.  
“And you look like death,” Ian laughed, choking on his chuckles so as to not wake his siblings, a pointless effort.  
“Fuck off. So would you if you were sleeping on this rickety ass floor. Or… not sleeping,” Mickey defended. Carl had wondered why he was sleeping on the floor, anyways. If he needed a place to stay, why not the couch? But it seemed as though the idea had never crossed the man’s mind.  
“The couch is a thing,” Ian reminded him, voicing Carl’s internal monologue.  
“Please, we both know I’m not just here ‘cause I need a place to crash. Though it is nice to be away from my bitch of a wife.” What did that mean? If not because of familial issues, why was Mickey even here?  
“Then just get your ass up here and stop complaining. Everyone’s asleep anyways,” Ian sighed, brushing his dangling hand across the Milkovich’s cheek, to which he flinched but didn’t object. Was Carl hearing this right? This had to be platonic… right?  
“Fine. But only ‘cause my back hurts,” Mickey gave in, climbing in to bed next to the red head, shoving him over. For a minute Carl watched on as the two just stared up as the ceiling, hands across their chests. There was a good four inches between the two despite how small the bed was to begin with. Okay so nothing was going on, after all.  
“You gonna spoon me or what?” Mickey finally spoke up, still staring at the ceiling. So much for nothing. Ian looked over at the brunette in surprise, but didn’t hesitate to sling an arm around his waist as they both turned on to their sides. Carl hadn’t even been sure his brother was gay, let alone the biggest fag beater this side of Chicago, Mickey Milkovich. But somehow watching the two together, Carl knew it was something he didn’t want to mess with, and when he awoke in the morning to find Mickey back on the floor, he happily kept his his mouth shut with nothing more than a knowing smirk.  
***  
It wasn’t uncommon in the Gallagher house to end up wearing someone else’s laundry, so it was no surprise to Kev when after a week of crashing there, Mickey came in to work wearing a green tank top he had seen sported by a certain red head on multiple occasions.  
“You run out of clean clothes or something?” He had asked. Mickey looked confused at first, eyes wandering down to his own shirt as though he had seemingly forgotten what he was wearing.  
“Oh, uh, yeah. Gotta grab more stuff from home,” Mickey muttered.  
“About that, how long are you and Svetlana gonna be at each other’s throats? ‘Cause to be totally honest, I don’t think it’s the best thing for business. I have guys complaining that she’s um… a little too _aggressive_ ”  
“Not my problem she’s a bitch,” Mickey shrugged, downing the last of his beer before heading upstairs.  
The next day when Kev went to pick something or other up at the Gallagher house, he ran into the two cooking breakfast in the kitchen.  
“Hey,” he greeted them lazily, searching around the counter and table for his lost possession.  
“Whatcha looking for?” Ian asked all too cheerfully for how early in the morning it was. In fact, there had been a lot of that annoyingly upbeat attitude from him lately.  
“I thought I had left my cell phone here, guess not,” Kev dismissed, not even remembering at that point if that was actually what he was looking for.  
“You want something to eat while you’re here man?” Mickey finally spoke up.  
“Ah, that’s okay. V made pancakes. Catch ya later dude.”  
And it wasn’t until he was already a foot out the door that he realized the boxers the brunette wore had “Gallagher” sewed into the seam.  
Even so, it wasn’t until Ian showed up a few days later wearing the brown sweatshirt with the open collar that he knew for a _fact_ was not his, that Kev thought anything of it all.  
“That a new jacket?” he asked Ian nonchalantly.  
“Oh yeah. Didn’t really have one after being away for so long. Guess I grew,” Ian explained.  
“Hm. It doesn’t seem like something you’d wear.”  
“Eh, it’s warm, that’s all that matters, right?” Ian reasoned, to which Kev just agreed to with a nod. Maybe it wasn’t Mickey’s. He didn’t think about it for the rest of the day. That was until Mickey headed downstairs wearing the same jacket at the day’s end.  
“Later man,” he waved, heading out the door.  
“Later,” Kev returned mindlessly. Yup. There was definitely something going on there.  
***

 

It wasn’t meant as an insult, but every Gallagher would probably agree with the fact that Debbie had been pretty wrapped up in herself as of late. Hell, even she would probably admit it. What can she say, eighth grade is stressful, what with boys and periods and shit. But even so, one thing she did notice was that there suddenly seemed to be an extra member of the Gallagher clan. She quickly found herself running into who but Mickey Milkovich in the morning- fighting over the bathroom with him, dancing around each other in the kitchen as they both made themselves breakfast, teasing each other about stupid shit like the fact that her hair was matted up in the back (“The fuck did you sleep on? Although, thank God he caught that one before Holly did). It was almost like he had become another older brother to her in a way. Turns out, Mickey wasn’t as rough around the edges as she had previously thought. Or maybe it was that he was rough _just_ around the edges.  
However, as nice as he may be to her, there was one sibling the Milkovich boy had a soft spot for, and it definitely wasn’t Debbie. She hadn’t noticed it at first, figuring the two were just friendly through Mandy. But as the days went on, it became clear Ian and Mickey definitely had a relationship independent of Mickey’s sister.  
They were eating dinner on the fifth night Mickey had been there. The whole gang was finally together again with Lip visiting from college and Fiona back from her stint in jail. On top of that, V and Kev were over, as was Carl’s girlfriend Bonnie and her fucking wolf pack of siblings. So to say everyone else was distracted was an understatement. Debbie found herself sitting across from the red head and the brunette, and they seemed to be in their own little world somehow independent of all the chaos.  
“You gonna come with me to work later?” She barely heard Ian over all the noise, mainly getting the gist of what he said from reading his lips.  
“I guess. Wasn’t too bad yesterday,” Mickey shrugged back. The older man had his chin resting in his right palm, and he was looking at her brother with a look she hadn’t ever seen him wear before. The only way Debbie could think to describe it would be… infatuation?  
“Oh c’mon we had fun,” Ian said with a raise of his eyebrows, and Debbie tried not to think of what that might have been insinuating. Mickey just rolled his eyes. “Okay. Just try to keep the threatening of my customers to a minimum, yeah?” Ian asked. Only when her brother took his outside arm across his own chest to playfully punch the Milkovich boy in the shoulder did Debbie realize they both had one hand under the table and were not budging. Carefully, she pushed her fork to the ground, giving her an excuse to look under the table.  
Sure enough, the two boys had their fingers interlocked. Not only that, but their legs were practically one with how tangled they were. Debbie smiled to herself. Did they really think they were fooling anyone? She may have her head up her ass, but it wasn’t that far.  
***  
The coffee was just the beginning.  
Lately, Fiona had a lot on her mind. Her life had gone from an all time high to an all time low in a matter of weeks, so as happy as she was about Ian being home, she didn’t dwell on it much. If Mickey Milkovich being there would somehow help her little brother stay around, so be it.  
She hadn’t been sure as to why though, until then. Something about how the two boys looked at each other through such a simple act made the eldest Gallagher feel like she was intruding on some kind of overtly private moment. Even as her younger brother tossed her the wad of balled up cash, his eyes were still glued to the other man, asking him something or other about work, Fiona couldn’t quite remember.  
The next day, she found herself listening in on one of their conversations. It wasn’t completely purposeful. Okay, it was purposeful, but it hadn’t started out as such. She had walked downstairs to get herself coffee after yet another sleepless night when she heard the backdoor open. So naturally, instead of walking upstairs, she stayed on the landing, hiding behind the wall.  
“Fuck I’m starving,” she heard her brother groan.  
“You just scarfed down two plates of eggs bitch!” Mickey laughed in return. She had never heard him laugh before. He had a nice laugh.  
“Well what can I say? A night of getting slapped by pruny queen sacks really works up an appetite,” Ian teased, echoing Mickey’s words from yesterday morning. Fiona carefully peeked around the corner. Mickey was now in the kitchen with Ian leaning on the counter across from him.  
“Here,” Mickey tossed the red head a bag of pop tarts, hitting him square in the chest.  
“Ouch,” Ian feigned hurt, giving Mickey the finger.  
“Gimme one of those,” Mickey demanded, trying to pry the foiled pack of pastries out of Ian’s hands.  
“Get your own, the fuck?”  
“That’s the last one! C’mooon man I’m hungry,” Mickey whined.  
“You had eggs too,” Ian pointed out.  
“Only one plate, fatty. Iaaaann.” And Fiona was pretty sure that was only the second time she had ever heard him use her brother’s first name.  
“Fine,” he said, opening the packet and shoving a pop tart into Mickey’s mouth. Fiona was sure if anyone else had done that that Mickey would’ve slapped them upside the head by now, but he just grabbed it, took a bite, and smiled.  
Fiona was just about to reveal herself when all of a sudden, Ian was gripping the back of Mickey’s head and closing the already oddly small gap between their faces by pressing his lips against the other’s.  
“Worth it. You taste good now,” Ian said with a quirk of his eyebrows. Mickey just bit his lip and shook his head with a chuckle, eating the rest of the pop tart in record time.  
Finally, Fiona made her way down the rest of the stairs, making sure to take extra steps to sound as though she had walked down the whole flight. By the time she was downstairs, the two boys were a foot apart, acting as though nothing had happened. Fiona just went along with it. She had a lot on her mind, after all.  
***  
“So have you and Mickey gone official now? Like you’re not just fucking anymore like you’re kissing, buying each other chocolates and shit?” Lip asked Ian one day.  
“Well I wouldn’t put it like that, but yeah. Why?” Ian replied, and he couldn’t help his little smile.  
“Well you’re not that good at hiding it.”

**Author's Note:**

> As promised I have fluffy one shots coming your way! I'm hoping to get a lot of writing done over the next week or so, so I that I'll have some fics compiled to upload periodically, including a Christmas one! I will be taking this week off for WC for the holidays, but I'll be back to it next Saturday! Hope to see you all then.  
> Feel free to leave me a prompt at bluheartfandoms.tumblr.com or just come talk to me about anything!  
> Thanks for reading!


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